Passion for Something Different
by Chaela Pearson
Summary: Catriona O'Byrne wants out of her life. And when she meets Dear Ol' Jack? READ IT READ IT READ IT READ IT! Also review. You won't be sorry you did! Rated T for Violence.
1. Freedom

**Title: **Passion for Something Different**  
Author: **Chaela Pearson**  
Fandom: **Pirates of the Caribbean**  
Ships:** Jack/OC**  
Summary: **Catriona O'Byrne wants out of her life- and she'll do whatever it takes to get there. And when she meets Dear ol' Jack? Well, we'll see.**  
Disclaimer: **I sadly don't own anything sits down and cries**  
Rating: **T for Violence and Language**  
Notes: **This story is on 'hold' at the moment, due to some family situations. Thank you for your loyalty. :)

**Author's Introduction: **Well, somehow you've managed to stumble across my little Pirates story. This story is purely fictional. I had a lot of fun writing about Catriona, and her character's development from a girl into a woman, and capturing Jack Sparrow, although one of the most difficult things to do in the world, as he's not meant to be captured, was a thrilling challenge.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy my little saga, and please, do R&R. Thank you!

_**This story is dedicated to Theresa**_

_**My best friend and my partner in crime**_

_**You inspire me**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything POTC related, such as the Black Pearl, Jack Sparrow, or any such things you recognize from the Pirates of the Caribbean Franchise.

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Chapter 1. Freedom   
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I smoothed down the silky folds in my soft pink gown and cleared my throat.

"I'm not going," I stated, firmly. I was, of course, referring to the annual Politician's Ball, a flashy gala to which the entire town of Port Rae would attend. I felt the tension in the air as my father, Captain Rian O'Byrne, glared at me icily. The Captain, as I was required to call him, was a tall, wiry man with blazing green eyes, which I inherited, and square, strong features. His hair was, underneath the typical powdered wig, a mass of unruly black waves. Being the only current Irishman a part of this branch of the Royal Navy, my father often felt misunderstood, I think. His crew was hard to tame, and they frequently did not give him the respect he deserved. This caused him quite a bit of stress, and the fact that his ship, the Deidre, was just lost to a hurricane simply made matters worse. You see, the ship was named for my mother, was killed at the hands of a Lieutenant after refusing to satisfy his lust. My mother, at least what I remember of her, was a striking beauty. She had large, round eyes, the color of hazelnuts, and lustrous porcelain skin. With hair the colour of autumn, she attracted people, especially men, like a magnet. My father was devastated when he heard of my mother's fate. I had been 6 years old at the time, unable to understand why my father would not stop crying. Once he even screamed, causing the hairs on my neck to stand on end, like his should had been ripped apart. He has since avenged Deidre's death, ensuring that the aforementioned Lieutenant would no longer walk the earth. I think that his vengeance is the only thing that kept him going. That, and the fact that he still loved Deidre.

"There is no debate. You're going," the Captain said with finality. He slapped his serviette upon the plank table and pushed himself away all in one swift, clean motion. As he angrily stormed from the room I slumped in my seat and absent-mindedly stirred my stew. The whole thing was simply unnecessary extravagance. One could live very well without Politician's Balls, or Promotion Ceremonies, or even silky pink gowns, for that matter.

I got up from the table daintily, thanked Jehoshaphat for the stew, and promptly burst out in a fit of tears, goodness knows why. Jehoshaphat, our live-in cook, clucked and pulled me into a motherly embrace.

"Y'alls are too hard on y'all's self," she soothed.

Jehoshaphat was a thick, strong Jamaican woman with a matronly air about her. She always wore her thin, gray uniform with pride, not at all ashamed of being a simple cook. Her black bandanna never left her springy chocolate locks, giving her the impression of a gypsy of sorts. Jehoshaphat was never one to be afraid of what other's would think.

I gladly relaxed into the warmth of her arms, sobbing softly. "I just don't want to go," I cried, "I just don't."

"What is y'alls want?" Jehoshaphat asked calmly.

I sniffled and thought about this for an eternity. What **was** it that I wanted? Eventually I snuggled into her chest and sighed.   
"Freedom," I said.  
Freedom.

The cool salty air played around me. I couldn't have possibly been less enthusiastic. It was the evening of the Politician's Ball, and I fought the urge to throw myself off the wall of the fort desperately. The only reason I was going through with this was the Captain. Unfortunately, what he said was law. So, here I was, waiting patiently in my quarters for the coach to arrive, without a care for whether or not it actually did.

I turned to face my reflection in the vanity. I was dressed exactly for the occasion, in an emerald green velvet gown with silver and gold embroidery. My golden red hair hung loose and softly curled. My skin was lightly powdered to hide my tan from days of being outside by the sea, and to regain that look of innocence and elegance. Unconsciously, my hand rose to handle the necklace that hung around my neck. It was very beautiful, a single emerald with silver Celtic knots looped around it. It was a piece of my mother. My eyes again swelled up with tears as a slowly came to a crushing realization. On one side of the mirror, I was Miss O'Byrne, daughter of Captain Rian O'Byrne of Port Rae. In the reflection, I was Catriona, a confused young woman, stuck inside and desperate to escape.


	2. The Ball

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Chapter 2. The Ball   
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"And then Lily told Mary that she'd seen Will with Blanche but Mary said she'd already heard it from Therese..." I stood blankly amidst a cluster of chattering girls, catching up on what were, to them, crucial matters. Mary Tassel had already revealed that Margaret Brown secretly sewed her own gowns, heaven forbid. I rolled my eyes and excused myself, wandering over to the enormous front window of the banquet hall. The view was beautiful, with the full moon casting its spell on the warm indigo waves, crashing beneath the rocky cliffs. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply the wonderful salty smell of the ocean, through the open front entrance. I saw, slightly to the left of the hitching posts, a small group of people, laughing madly and leaning around on each other. There were several rather bold looking women wearing very revealing dresses, as well as two sailors, both evidently drunk. When I took a closer second look, I saw that one of the sailors was wearing a faded red paisley bandanna around his long dread locked hair, beads interwoven, and two braids hung from his chin. I jumped when I realized that this man was no ordinary sailer, but...

"Pirate," I whispered. Instantaneously, the man looked up at me with a mischievous gleam in his eyes and, from all that distance, smiled coyly at me. I felt a sudden rush of heat creep up my face and a hand on my shoulder. Startled, I spun around and found myself looking into the almond eyes of Lieutenant Frederick Hunt. He stood there, stiff as a board, tall, broad-shouldered and powerful. The waltz music streaming in the background seemed entirely out of place for a confrontation with Hunt.

"Miss O'Byrne," Hunt began, "you are looking particularly radiant this evening. Will you accompany me on a stroll through the garden?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat and frantically searched for an answer. I had never been alone with a man before, save my father, who was at this moment nowhere to be seen.

After a vast amount of time I consented and took Hunt's arm as he led me to the famous gardens of Port Rae's banquet hall. The music and lights became distant, and darkness engulfed us. _Funny,_ I thought, _that Lieutenant Hunt would walk me to a garden I inevitably would not be able to see to admire._

The night was still but cool. The velvety, star-studded sky loomed over us, featuring a pale, silvery moon. Fireflies darted in front of me, conversing with the chirping crickets. It was indeed a beautiful evening. If only I had someone else to share it with.

"I feel that I must be honest with you, Miss Catriona," Hunt said carefully. His eyes remained directly ahead of him. I glanced at the man, noticing his stubbly complexion in the moonlight. Nodding, I willed him to continue.

"In the course of the last few months, I have found myself enamored with you," he confessed to me.

Faint yet familiar laughter met my ears. People moving about. Music playing softly.

"I have been speaking with your father, Miss Catriona,"

Footsteps lightly heading my way. Laughter growing louder. My heart beat faster.

"I have inquired whether it be possible," 

The Laughter stopped. Quiet conversation. A cry of frustration. A pistol shot. A yelp of agony. Quick, loud footsteps. I was becoming panic stricken with blindness as to what was going on.

"to ask for your hand in-" 

"MOVE!"

A dark figure careened towards me, knocking me onto the ground. Exasperated yet excited, I regained my composure, gathered my skirts and blindly ran after the figure into the blackness. I didn't so much want to interfere with the person's situation, as to free myself from the Lieutenant and the dreary ball. 

I pursued the man, which I'd discovered the person to be, down the many winding streets of Port Rae. He was always just a corner ahead of me, and considering the difficulty of chasing a man in the middle of a November night while wearing a ball gown and slippers, I felt I was keeping up quite well. When I finally lost sight of him, I was long since out of breath, with one shoulder of my dress hanging down on my arm, and an extensive tear in my skirt. However, I kept running, out of sheer impulse. I was in a part of town that I hardly recognized, and it was quite thrilling. Rounding a bend and running into a closed off alley, I heard a thump behind me. The stench of fear suddenly oozed out of me, and a knot formed deep in the pit of my stomach. I stood like a statue as I felt a presence move towards me. The cold, hard metal of a pistol pressed against my head, and I found myself wondering if this was the same pistol which had been fired earlier. A vague scent of rum and gun-powder drifted around me. A chain was slung around my frozen neck.

"Why are you following me?" A deep, husky voice growled. The moon sailed out from behind a haze, giving me a much needed light to identify my capturer. Mustering all the courage I had, I spun around and-

"Oh..."

He smirked.

"...no."


	3. The Tavern

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Chapter 3. The Tavern   
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I locked eyes with him. The sultry, chocolate brown vastness penetrated my soul. I felt myself melt in his arms, as he removed the pistol from my disheveled hair.

"The girl in the window," he concluded, with a noticeable accent. I gulped, and as his piercing gaze traveled to my bedraggled gown, I defensively pulled the shoulder back to where it belonged and smoothed my torn skirt. He gently placed his shapely lips against my ear.

"There's no need for a good impression, love, I'm not high society." I shook him off and took a good look at him. It was the same man I had seen earlier, for certain. The pirate. He was dressed in a standard off-white shirt, sleeves draping, covered slightly with a deep brown vest. His sword was safely in his belt, which was looped around an unnecessary piece of hanging cloth. His pants tucked into his knee-high leather boots. His hands, attractively fine-boned, were smothered in all sorts of rings and jewelery.

Yes, definitely a pirate.

I quivered against my will and scowled. "Unhand me at once, you barbaric mongrel!" I demanded, impertinently. 

"You _are_ quite the firecracker, aren't you?" He looked on me with pity. "I'm not going to hurt you," he claimed.

"Yes, I suppose that's the reason you had a pistol jammed into my head," I snapped back. He looked hurt as I folded my arms across my chest and stuck my nose in the air. He stood back and brought his hand to his chin.

"So then," he grinned, and then looked around innocently. I had to admit, he _iwas_ good looking, in a roguish, rugged manner. He was **definitely** a fine alternative to Lieutenant Hunt. "I figured with your being free and all, you would've left by now," the man stated. I flustered, embarrassed. "Well, I'm not leaving until I learn your name, you black-hearted wretch!" I stuttered.

"And why is that? In case you desire some pleasurable company in the very near future?" I heard myself laugh nervously.

"No," I countered, "so I can turn you in to the authorities, notorious scoundrel!"

"Well, you certainly don't run out of insulting things to say," he sneered. Even thought that made me feel horrible, like I had just squashed a kitten, I stood my ground. 

"Your name."

"Captain Jack Sparrow, should I bow or curtsy?" He smiled again.

"I'm sure a handshake would suffice," I said. We both put on solemn faces and shook hands like businessman, then burst out laughing.

"I have a previous engagement with a bottle of rum, but I'm certain she wouldn't mind the extra company," Jack proposed, motioning to the open end of the alley. I sighed, and looked him in the eyes. Melting soon followed.

"I have to get back to-" I began, but Jack put a finger to my lips and grinned.

"Do you honestly... **have** to?" He asked. "Do you... **have** to do... anything?" I stood, with silence as my reply.

"I thought not," he said. I giggled as Jack curled his mustache, pursing his lips aristocratically, and, taking the arm he offered, we walked out of the alley.

"There's no need for good impressions, Jack, I'm not high society," I said, quoting his earlier words. He stopped and looked at me judgementally. "That's debatable," he muttered. Offended, I let go of his arm and placed my hands on my hips.

"Mr.Sparrow!" I exclaimed, "That was, regrettably, the most insolent remark I've ever heard come out of your mouth!"

He smiled teasingly. "But it was fact, and fact is fact, in fact, love." I couldn't help but smirk at his manner of speaking. I relented and he led me through the streets, talking without really saying anything.

At last we found ourselves at the door of a filthy building, loud guffaws and clinking glass coming at us out with splintered window.

"It's no Tortuga," Jack said over the pandemonium, "but it'll do." On that note, he took my hand and led me inside the Griffin Tavern.

As soon as I stepped inside I gagged. The place reeked of rum, sweat, blood, urine, and all manner of revolting things. "How can you stand this?" I managed to ask, through blurry eyes.

"Experience," Jack responded seriously. Still holding my hand, Jack led me to a moderately quiet corner of the crowded room, where there was an empty table hidden by a wooden pillar. I noticed that every time we passed another woman, she would take one look at Jack and turn furiously, gritting her teeth. As we sat on the incredibly uncomfortable chairs, Jack pulled a bottle of rum from his jacket.

"Why didn't you just drink that back in the alley?" I questioned. He stared at me and then at the bottle. Just as he was opening his mouth to respond, a tall blond woman with entirely too much paint on her face approached, carrying a silver tray littered with empty glasses. 

"Jack Sparrow!" She proclaimed, feigning surprise. Jack turned slowly, and his eyes widened. "Martha," he squeaked.

Martha simply grimaced and nodded in my direction. "Who's this? Your latest victim?"

"This," Jack said lavishly, waving his hands around madly, "is..." He stopped, realizing that he didn't know my name.

"Catriona O'Byrne," I quickly supplied. Martha nodded, and I felt her scrutinizing gaze upon me until she left.

"Aye," Jack murmured, "thanks,love." Before he could say anything else, I changed the subject.

"So what is it you **do**, exactly?" I queried.

Grinning broadly, Jack sat back in his chair. "Well, I pillage, plunder, raid, ransack, rob, and otherwise make myself happy at other people's expense," he said. A little frightened, I nodded once and began to stand, but Jack ushered me to sit down. Warily, I did so. "What is it," I started slowly, "you want from me?" He didn't answer me, but handed me his bottle.

"Rum?" I whispered, "Oh, Jack, I couldn't possibly-" He lifted the bottle and put it to my lips, pouring it into my mouth. It was like fire falling down my throat. I coughed and gasped, disoriented.

"That's the way," Jack beamed. Without warning, the door to the tavern crashed open, and all eyes settled upon it. A booming, thunderous voice shook the table.

"Jack...**SPARROW**!"


	4. That Fateful Meeting

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Chapter 4. That Fateful Meeting   
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Jack shuffled in his seat, eyes wide. "Oh bugger." 

Three massive brown men made their way over to us. Now that I think of it, it's funny that I would use the word 'massive' to describe all three of the men, because, in essence, they couldn't have looked more different from each other. Yet they were all massive.

The first man was tremendously tall, with long, thin arms and legs. He made the other two men look like children. His features were small and sharp, like a rat's, with beady black eyes and short black hair. He looked angry, yet worried.

The second man, the one who had called out Jack's name, was thick, with a great thick chest and great thick legs. He looked like a gorilla, and I had to stifle a laugh. His shoulders were just as broad as the table, and judging by the look he gave me, he knew it. His eyes were a strange, hypnotic golden brown. His stance told me he was forceful and determined.

The third man was enormous. Plump as a pig, and short, to make it worse. He shied away from the group, a bit. His face was comical, shaped like a dog's. Sunken brown eyes and a large chin. He had a more mousy disposition than the others.

The rat, the gorilla and the dog stormed up to Jack.

"Gentlemen," Jack grimaced, clasping his hands together, "how may I be of service?"

"We are not here to negotiate, Jack Sparrow," he gorilla rumbled, with an unusual accent I hadn't heard before.

"Captain Ja-" Jack began, but the gorilla persuasively pulled out his curved sword and placed it at Jack's throat.

"We are here to collect what is rightfully ours."

Jack pondered this for a moment, then grunted. "Well, it seems to me that, at this precise moment in time, what you are here to collect, which I have, which is rightfully yours therefore belonging to you, but under the care of myself, is in fact _not_ under the care of myself, hence my not having it, and if that be the case then is it rightfully yours at present?" The rat and the dog looked at each other, confused. The gorilla, however, knew better. Pushing his weapon hard against Jack's neck, he spoke through clenched teeth. 

"He wants it back Jack."

Jack looked down at the sword and smiled nervously, removing it from himself. "Yes, Kato, and he shall have it back. Eventually."

"You will die in your watery grave!" The rat snarled.

"Nokkog," Kato hissed, "can you not see that there is a woman in our presence?" He stared at me, and I could not escape his evil eyes and maniacal grin.

"Yes! Well! We'd best not discuss this here then!" Jack exclaimed with forced ease. Kato backed off and made a motion with his hands. "Nokkog, Sikahq," he said, telling them to leave. Before he turned and left himself, Kato put his face uncomfortably close to Jack's. "We'll be back," he growled.

After the mean had left, Jack buried his face in his hands. "Bugger bugger bugger bugger," I could hear him mumbling. I hesitantly placed my hand on his knee.

"What was that about, Jack?" He looked up, and I sighed. He appeared tired. Afraid, even. His smile and playful banter were gone, replaced with fear and angst.

"Catriona," Jack started- and then paused. "It's not important."

"I'm not dense, Jack, it is important."

"Can I trust you?" He asked, looking deeply into my eyes.

"Undoubtedly." 

"Very well," he sighed once more, rubbing his eyes. "About 16 months ago I decided to set sail without any direction. I just wanted movement. I wanted to be able to do what I wanted, even if it was pointless. As it turns out, I sailed north. Days, weeks, months, I can't remember. Eventually it started getting a bit nippy, and before we knew it, we had landed on a freezing, white wasteland. Of course, I knew it was snow, but most of my crew had lived in the Caribbean their entire lives, and they were amazed by it. So, we dropped anchor and began to explore the area. Turns out, there was a cozy little settlement, not 2 miles from shore. I think they called it... Padqikirut. Terrific little place. So we... made ourselves at home, so to speak. The people had a leader, who was a fierce warrior. Unbeatable, he was. But he had a secret," at this, Jack took a swig of rum and leaned towards me.


	5. Back to Prison, Catriona?

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Chapter 5. Back To Prison, Catriona?   
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" The people, the Inuits, had a god. Agssior poq. I noticed, sometimes, my crew members coming out of the temple. carrying properties of significant value. One night, after some sort of tribal frolic, the King requested a private audience with yours truly. I, without a choice, went to see him. It was a strange thing, Miss Catriona, as he spoke to me in his own language, but I completely understood everything he had to say," again Jack took a swig of rum. "'Jack Sparrow, you have eaten our food, drunken our drinks, and slept in our abodes. Now, you must repay us'," Jack said, imitating the Inuit King, "'I wish only the best for my daughter, Valora. She is a jewel, a flower, a princess. And she must choose a husband."

I watched as Jack cringed at the word 'husband'.

"'Jack, you must help Valora find a man who is loyal, honorable, gentle, kind, loving and hard-working.' Well, Catriona, I know of only three men who fit that description, and they're all eunuchs. I remember saying joyfully, 'Perfect! Everything I'm not!' But I'm afraid that Tyuktuc was not pleased with my outburst. He sent me immediately to search with his daughter. But instead of taking me to the village to do Tyuktuc's bidding, Valora took me to the temple. It was dark inside, but warm. She grabbed my hand and led me to a large, open room, where many people were kneeling and, I suspected, praying. 'There is Agssior poq,' she said, pointing to an eagle, wings spread wide. Valora turned to me urgently. 'It is Nanook I love, no other. My father and his are at war, and I can not have him. Unless...' She proceeded to tell me everything. Her father's secret," Jack looked me in the eye. "Am I boring you, Catriona?"

"Not in the least," I replied honestly. But, I had to admit, the day was wearing down upon me, and the hour was growing very late.

Cautiously, Jack continued. "Valora told me that her father was 200 years old. That, this eagle, this idol, was the secret to his youth. If I took it, Tyuktuc would become old, fall ill and weary, and Valora would be free to run away and marry Nanook."

"Well that's positively horrid! What a heartless, greedy thing to do!" I exclaimed, shocked.

Jack smiled. "Exactly why I did it, love. If only you had seen it! As soon as Valora had told me of her plan, I made my way over to the statue. It was stunning. I quite literally could not move. The eagle was made of some sort of purple glass. It sparkled, though, and had a golden aura around it. Valora told me what it was, I think. Started with an 'A'..." 

"Amethyst?"

"Ah! Yes, that was it. Amethyst. So then. I decided, why not? We returned to the temple at midnight. There was one person still there, however. An old woman. 'Meldamiriel,' Valora called her. Looking into her pale, lifeless eyes, I saw that she was blind. The eagle was very heavy, and when I picked it up, I almost dropped it. I knew that if I _took_ the idol, Tyuktuc would age instantly and fall ill. But if I _dropped_ it and it shattered, he would most certainly die. Anyway, I took my chances. We managed to get the Amethyst Eagle onto the Pearl-"

"The Pearl?"

"Aye, The Black Pearl. My ship, love. We set sail that night. I couldn't risk staying. I guess Valora ratted me out to the three musketeers," Jack finished, motioning towards the door, where the men had recently left.

"Oh, Jack!" I groaned. "What were you thinking?"

"What I'm always thinking," he responded, as if I should have known, "Money."

"It figures."

"Do I detect a sarcastic tone?" Jack asked, finishing off his rum.

Smugly, I nodded. After a brief serious moment I stood up. "Jack, you know very well that I should not be here."

"Of course you shouldn't. But you are. And what does that tell you?"

I blushed. "It tells me that I'm a silly girl, and I'm leaving now to go home," I said loudly, as if to drown out my own thoughts, which were telling me to stay just a little bit longer.

"So leave." Jack opened his second bottle of rum. After I stared at him for a moment, he smirked. "Can you do it?"

"Do what, pray tell, Mr. Sparrow?" I asked, unenthusiastically.

"Will you be going back to prison, Catriona?"


	6. Open Waters

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Chapter 6. Open Waters  
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I stood, mesmerized by the intricate details on the maidenhead. All sorts of noise clattered about me.

"It's stuck in the rigging..."  
"Back to starboard..."   
"Hold on the poop deck..."  
"Scurvy Mongrel..." 

Someone stood behind me and enveloped me under an arm. "Remarkable, is it not?" I recognized Jack's voice, and I turned to face him.

"Jack," I sighed, "this is madness!"

"Or Brilliance," he added.

"We'll all be hanged!" I cried with worry.

"Not likely,love. You forget, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

I turned away and stared out at the glassy turquoise water. I was getting used to the wind's way of picking up and dying down, but I was still nervous. What if the Captain - my father- discovered us? What if we were shipwrecked? What if the crew hated me? What if- what if-

"Have you been on a ship before, Catriona?" 

"Of course," I snapped, "my father was, after all, a captain." I hardened when I realized I had ust referred to my father in the past tense.

"It's not a sin, love," Jack said, seemingly reading my mind.

"I've heard, however, it's bad luck," a new voice croaked behind us. Jack and I spun in surprise. There was a man, swaying slightly, as if he'd had too much to drink, gawking at Jack. His untidy gray hair and sideburns hid his weather beaten face.

"Joshamee Gibbs!" Jack proclaimed, spreading his arms.

"Aye, Cap'n Jack," Gibbs muttered. "Who's this?" he asked, pointing to me. 

"Don't point, man, it's rude," Jack scolded in a low voice. "This is my-"

"Friend!" I said without thinking.

"Well, I was going to say cabin-girl, but 'friend' will do," Jack shrugged.

"We are ready to make way, Captain," a shout announced from the poop deck. 

"Oh, good," Jack said jovially. And then, turning to me, "You won't want to miss this." He swaggered away, leaving me and Gibbs at the bow of the ship. I shook my head. Jack was a fool. But, an intelligent fool. It never failed to surprise me, how much Jack's personality contradicted itself.

Without warning, the ship shuddered and I knew we were pulling away from the bay. I ran up to the poop deck to take my place beside Jack, occassionally knocking into people along the way. At first I kept a good distance between Jack and myself, knowing that his mind was preoccupied. His hands were white on the wheel, due to his excitement. His eyes, locked ahead of him. On the ever-present horizon. After we started to pick up speed, and the orders were shouted to 'take 'er out to open sea', Jack and I leaned against the railing once more. If you've ever watched dolphins jump and play alongside your ship, then you'll know what I'm talking about when I say it's a sight to behold.

"Your quite taken with those things. It concerns me," Jack said, bottle of rum in hand.

I smiled. "They're just so happy! So playful. So..." 

"Free," he said in a hushed tone. I glanced in him, with new respect.

"Yes," I agreed, simply.

"Damn dolphins," Jack muttered as he strutted away.

I still stared in his direction long after he was gone. _What an odd man_, I thought.

Later that evening, I was sitting in the fo'c'sle with the crew when Jack came and pulled me outside. 

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"I need you to see something."

We walked quickly, down to the cargo hold. It was pitch black, until Jack lit a lantern.

"Oh," I gasped. It quite literally took my breath away.


	7. A Twist of Fate

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Chapter 7. A Twist of Fate   
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It was the eagle. The amethyst eagle. And it was exactly how Jack had described it. Almost lifelike, it shone like the sun and loomed over us. It was beautiful.

"Oh, Jack," I whispered. I feared if I raised my voice, the eagle would be angered. "You were telling the truth."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell! Of course I was telling the truth! Have I ever given you any reason not to trust me?" I shook my head shortly and Jack began to walk me to my makeshift cabin, which was a small hold configured to hold a hammock and a tiny mirror.

I noticed, after Jack had left, an unpretentious white dress lying across my hammock. Looking down at myself, I realized that I was still wearing my tattered green ball gown. I laughed out loud, hoping that the crew members hadn't noticed the grime and the tear in my skirt. Then, _Who am I kidding!_ I thought. The crew all looked as if they had spent their lives sleeping in pig sties, which, to be brutally honest, wasn't far from the truth. Climbing into my small hammock of a bed, I fell asleep thinking about my new rebellious demeanor, and the last thought on my mind was the consequences I'd have to suffer because of it.

The following morning, I awoke to frantic hollers coming from above me. I quickly dressed in the simple white frock and tied my hair up in a tight knot, and hurried up to the deck. Crew members were everywhere, wholeheartedly slaving away. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mr. Gibbs, and I rushed over to him.

"Mr. Gibbs, what is it? What's going on?" I asked. He turned to me, an uneasy look on his face.

"Good morning to you too, Missy. Well now, we're being pursued from either side. One ship we recognize to be the Qakqar, and the other, well, we can't be sure," he answered. Patting me on the back, he left to seek out Jack for directions. I searched the water on the starboard side for a ship, and when I finally caught sight of it, it had become rapidly closer. I assumed it was the Qakqar. A sizable boat - ship -, it looked well broken in and trusty. It's speed was nothing to sneeze at, either. I wondered, were they after us? And if they were, why? Hesitantly, I plodded over to the port side, to see the other ship. When I did, I instantly regretted it. It was the last thing in the world I wanted to see. 

Deirdre II.

I trembled ferociously as I watched her gain on us. What was I to do? I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, I had nothing. Nothing to do but wait.

As if sensing my panic, Mr. Gibbs approached me, wearing a grim frown. "Trouble, Missy?"

"My father," I said, letting out the breath I'd been holding, "It's my father."

"And what might your plan of action be?" he asked.

I shuddered at the thought of what would become of me if I was to be discovered by my father. "Hide. It's my only choice," I replied quietly. Gibbs nodded and left me to myself.

I felt pressure building up inside of me, and a pulse echoed in my ears, reminding me how afraid I was. I looked on as the Qakqar and the Deirdre II pulled in on either side of the Pearl. The shouting around me was driving me positively mad, so much that I could not even hear myself think. The Pearl was gaining speed, however, I could feel it, and it was reassuring. Everything was falling into a sort of supernatural rhythm. There was the crew working around me, all in unison, as the Pearl's speed surpassed that of the other ships, and I felt a sense of peace as she pulled ahead and we found ourselves directly in front of the Qakqar. Deirdre II followed suit and sailed in behind the Qakqar, forming an assembly line. We were gaining speed, still, but miraculously the Qakqar managed to keep up, Deirdre II falling behind slightly.

My stomach sunk as we began to slow down, and I lurched forward onto the deck as the Qakqar rammed into our stern. I heard the splintering of broken wood and felt the extra weight of the Qakqar pulling us back. Unstable, I hardly noticed Deirdre II sailing out to the port side. Shaking my head to regain a bit of comprehension, I grasped onto the mast and peered up at the wheel where Mr. Gibbs and Jack were watching the sea ahead of them, apparently oblivious to their surroundings.

"They've opened her up," a crew member, Ragetti, I believe, shouted. I turned, dreading the sight, but he was right. The cannons were being loaded. I heard the explosions before they actually happened, the eruption of noise jolting me and sending me to the ground again.

I brought my hand to my cheek and felt the sticky, wet sensation of blood, seeping through a cut in my skin. It startled me, but I jumped up and continued to focus on the circumstances at hand.

Without warning, the ship jarred and the crew grew silent. I listened to a beat of footsteps and turned around. A strained, thick voice called out through the silence.

"It's been far too long, Jack Sparrow."


	8. Fight!

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Chapter 8. Fight!   
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Jack whirled around at the sound of his name. Upon making eye contact with the intruder, I could just make out the words on his lips:

"Oh bugger."

A very frail, small, decaying old man stood before us, surrounded by an entourage of gigantic men. He had a long snow white beard that reached his waist and his skin was literally sticking to his bones. He seemed very fragile, but his body was covered in scars of war wounds. I noticed, though, that he had a deadly fire in his eyes.

"Personally, I don't think it's been long enough," Jack shouted from his place at the wheel. I watched as rage filled the old man's face and he screeched at the top of his lungs. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE? WHERE IS IT! GIVE IT TO ME NOW, JACK!"

Jack began whistling an old sea shanty, pretending that he couldn't hear the man. I looked away from the confrontation, my heart filled with fear, only to see Deirdre II pulling straight and alongside of us. My stomach started to jump as I was filled with angst.

"Show them no mercy!" Tyuktuc finally ordered. With that, all the Inuit warriors screamed forward in a charge. I shrieked and started to run. I managed, barely, to hide inside a barrel that was sitting beside the door to the captain's cabin. Sitting inside, I found myself praying. _Please, God,_ I prayed, _deliver us!_ The noise outside was driving me to lunacy. I heard the clashing of metal against metal and the final cries of dying men. I was shuddering inside my barrel, until the lid was torn off and I was thrown out of it. Regaining my senses, I was dragged to my feet by the scruff of my neck. A greasy character was baring his teeth and holding an ax, ready to strike.

"Filthy whore," he seethed. I didn't even try to defend myself; I was paralyzed in terror. He smiled an evil smile and began to bring the ax down; I prepared myself for the blow, but it never came. Instead, I crumpled in a heap on the deck, released from the threatening grasp. I quickly but clumsily brought myself to my feet just in time to see Jack pull his sword out of the man's chest.

"That's not very nice," Jack said to the stiff, lifeless corpse. Then, turning to me, "That was incredibly stupid. Go, knit or something, don't stay up here. You'll just get in the way." I looked at him in shock, and my glanced shifted as I saw a shadow move towards him. 

"Jack!" I screamed. Jack twisted around and countered the attack with a blow to the stomach. Tyuktuc wasn't expecting it, and he keeled over in agony. Jack took that opportunity to sashay as far away as possible. Which, to be frank, wasn't all that far, due to the fact that every few steps there was a pair of furious pirates ferociously dueling each other to the death. 

Tyuktuc didn't seem to have a problem chasing after Jack, and for such an old man, he had surprising strength and agility. Once they were both facing each other by the wheel, their swords were drawn and sparks flew. Jack parried every attack with ease, but Tyuktuc seemed to know what he was doing just as well. They were both quite obviously masters of the blade. They fought murderously, circling each other like dogs.

Jack got first blood. It was a nick on Tyuktuc's shoulder, hardly a scratch, but it was his. And it put Tyuktuc in a bloodthirsty fury. With new determination, he slashed at Jack, forcing him so far back he had to jump on a pile of crates to maintain his balance.

"Aha!" Jack said, pulling his arm to his chest triumphantly. Tyuktuc gnashed his teeth and hacked at Jack's legs, causing him to tuck them in and jump three feet in the air. He slid down Tyuktuc's shoulder, kicking him in the back as he went.

"Sorry, mate," Jack said, springing his nimble body away as fast as he could. Tyuktuc wasn't reluctant to keep up. Their battle continued, their swords crashing away as the sun began to set. The Deirdre II was now neck-and-neck with the Pearl, and they were lowering a gangplank. I swallowed a lump in my throat, realizing I had crouched down in an inconspicuous corner, hidden from sight.

Tyuktuc managed to put a gash in Jack's left cheek, but neither Jack nor Tyuktuc showed any signs of slowing down. This was no casual duel. This was a fight to the death. And neither was willing to die.

Men started boarding the Pearl, from Deirdre II, dressed in the official uniform of the Royal Navy. They stood in formation along the port side, and the last man boarded. A man with blazing green eyes.

I gasped.

My father.

I tried to make myself even smaller in my corner, watching my father, then panning back to Jack's impassioned war, then to my father... I couldn't seem to concentrate on any one thing. 

And then, Jack made the horrible mistake of looking up at my father hatefully, for a fraction of a second. I watched in horror as the sword surged into Jack's torso, his eyes widening immensely. 

"Ugh."

"JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" I screamed.


	9. A Triumphant Loss

Alright everyone, here is the long-anticipated, and VERY long, chapter 9! Happy reading!   
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Chapter 9. A Triumphant Loss   
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"YOU BASTARD!" My shrieks were now directed at Tyuktuc. "YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD!"

The Royal Navy officers were quite surprised at a sudden outburst coming from an invisible creature hidden in the growing darkness, and even more so when they recognized me as I raced over to Jack's side. Tyuktuc laughed maliciously and prepared to kill me with his still bloody sword, which as quickly knocked out of his hand by another sword which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"I would advise you to ne'er do that again, mate," an unfamiliar voice warned. I looked up, eyes littered with angry tears, to see a man who punctured fear into my entire body.

"Bloody... hell..." Jack muttered between short gasps, "you're... not after... me too..."

I stood up to face the man.

"Captain Hector Barbossa, Missy, now I must be asking you to step away from Dear Ol' Jack, there," he said, pushing me to the side. Tyuktuc was no longer anywhere to be seen. The Qakqar had dislodged itself from the Pearl, I noticed, and I assumed they would not sail without Tyuktuc.

I decided we were safe, if not for the time being.

"He's dead! He's dead! The Cap'n is DEAD! We should've all just stayed ashore, never gotten in this mess! Curses! Dammit, Jack, Can't you just stay alive for once?" A crew member bawled.

Captain Barbossa reached for his pistol, rolling his cold, yellow eyes. "Idiot," he mumbled, as he shot the man.

"Is he?" I whispered, fearing the answer. Really, I don't even know why I asked, because standing over Jack I could see his chest uncertainly rising and falling. Probably I just wanted someone to promise me that it would all be okay.

"Of course he is. I'll be damned if I've seen a more incompetent fool in all of my miserable days," Barbossa snapped. At first I felt insulted and I started to rush to Jack's defense, but then Barbossa smirked at me and I realized that he had misunderstood me, and was speaking of the now-dead-mourning-crew-member. "No," he finally continued, "Jack's not dead. Yet. But he will be if you don't get out of my way!"

I jumped aside quickly, allowing Barbossa to drag Jack below decks. I realized my entire body was soaked in sweat and blood, and I did my best to wring out my dress and my hair.

"Are you happy, now?" A cold voice demanded. I shakily turned around, to come face to face with those same haunting green eyes that I saw every time I looked in a mirror. My father wasn't looking at me, but out towards the sea, bluffing indifference. I couldn't, however, bring myself to answer. I suppose in a manner of speaking, yes, I was happy. I was learning independence, I was living my own life with out excess, I was free! But, I had stumbled upon a twisted predicament, and I had recently seen more men killed than I would have ever dreamed possible. I had seen my one and only friend come undeniably close to losing his life. And _that_, that made me petrified.

"I don't know," I finally concluded.

My father spun, releasing weeks of angst, frustration and anger with a deafening slap to my face. I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. I couldn't feel, save the throbbing agony in my left cheek.

"You foolish ass!" He yelled blazingly. "You just had to! You had to run off, be liberated, glorify yourself in your greed!" He spat at me. "Do you know what I am? I am the laughing stock of Port Rae- of the entire Royal Navy! And you-" he said, pointing at me menacingly, "You are a worthless piece of property, a duplicate of your trifling mother."

I, now, filled with vehement hate, seethed back at my father, "You loved my mother; don't you **dare** say otherwise. If not you would not have mourned her death."

My father laughed, triumphantly. "Why would I mourn over something that I myself did with a purpose?"

Confused now, I let my guard down, slightly, "You killed a lieutenant! A lieutenant who had killed her. That's what you told me! You've never lied!"

"I've never lied," my father agreed angrily. "Who do you think was the lieutenant?"

In complete agony, shock, resentment, and melancholy, my world clouded over, and I knew no more.

---

I awoke with a start, to utter blackness. My breathing was sharp and erratic, full of fear. _Where was I? Oh. The fo'c'sle. _There was no light, but I could barely make out the shape of the table, so I knew I was under cover. I rustled, and started to stand, but a sudden grasp of my wrist pulled me down.

"Don't-go-outside," A voice, which I recognized to be Barbossa's, hissed. I nodded, faltering, although he couldn't see me. "They're still out there. That blasted Navy," Barbossa cursed.

"Mr. Barbossa, if you don't mind me asking-" I finally managed to stutter.

"Shhh! They'll hear you!"

I kept going, in a smaller voice, "Who are you? And what are you doing here, of all places?"

I heard the man shuffle, and he lit a lantern on the floor between us, which hopefully would not be seen from the outside. I could now see his face again, and I studied it carefully, looking for any trace of emotion. I found none.

"Well, Missy, me and ol' Jack there go way back, we've known each other for nigh an eternity," he explained, "And not long ago, when I was casually making my usual pillaging rounds through the Caribbean, I heard that your father was offering quite the substantial reward for your return, and I took the job, obviously knowing exactly where Captain Jack Sparrow would be headed."

I perked up, realizing that all along, I hadn't even known where we were sailing to, and now I wanted the answer. Barbossa pulled out a bottle of rum and uncorked it, as I rolled my eyes.

"Pirates," I mumbled. Barbossa grinned and swallowed the liquid fire. "So then," I drew back on the subject, "where _was_ it that Jack was headed?"

"Why, Singapore, of course."

I laughed, and just then Mr. Gibbs came crashing in, sweat droplets forming on his forehead.

"They're gone, they're finally gone! God bless us! And Port Rae is a mere 20, no, 18 knots away!" He exclaimed. From a corner of the room I heard a muffled groan, and I supposed it was Jack. I sat up urgently.

"Port Rae? But, we can't be returning!" I said, puzzled.

"Aye, m'dear, that we are," Barbossa confirmed.

Another, louder groan.

"Best speed it up, he's startin' to fade," Barbossa suggested, almost sarcastically, to Gibbs.

"Could this possibly get any worse?" I shouted, clenching my fists and shaking them.

A word of advice: never ask that, because no matter how bad it is, there is no denying it, it can **always** get worse.

And then, of course, it began to rain.

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Chapter 10 to come tomorrow! Hope you liked it!


	10. Repaid, Or Betrayed?

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Chapter 10. Repaid, or Betrayed?   
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By the time I manged to get Jack off of the ship, the rain was coming down in torrents. He was breathing heavily, and it was all I could do to support his weight. Barbossa had jumped off the ship in a hurry to get somewhere, and he told us he'd be back, but he never came, and he never came. Ergo, I thought Jack didn't have much time, so there I was. We made our way down the gangplank, stopping every few steps to let Jack catch his breath.

I was so worried about Jack, I didn't see the puddle until it was too late. I lost my balance and plunged into the mud, dragging Jack down with me. He yelped in pain, and somehow landed, awkwardly, directly on top of me.

"Now this is neither the time, nor the place for this, love," Jack struggled, teasingly, between short breaths. I smiled and gently wiped the muck off of his face with the sleeve of my dress. Helping Jack up, I realized that I had to get help, immediately. It was beyond me now. Jack had his hand over his wound, and I removed it carefully. It was seeping blood and the flesh was starting to rot. I had to hold back my vomit.

"Jack, I need you to work with me!" I pointed out urgently. "Or you're not going to be able to get back on that ship at all," I finished, motioning back towards the Pearl. Jack nodded, and, with great effort, he began to shuffle along a little faster. We made it to a familiar building and I knocked on the door loudly. I heard distant footsteps and finally the door creaked open.

"What on earth-"

"Mrs. Lodram, you are the only person I trust with medicines. Please! Help us!" I thrust Jack into the stout little woman's arms.

"Oh, dear. He's not in too good of shape, is he, now?" She clucked. "To bed with you, man," she barked at Jack. I gladly stepped inside, taking shelter from the rain. Mrs. Lodram took Jack's other arm over her shoulder, and we slowly but surely made our way up the crooked cedar staircase into a spare room. The woman lied Jack down on the bed and made me go fetch some brandy while she cleaned out his open wound.

The kitchen was clean, and open; I had no problem at all finding the brandy, sitting on a counter beside a washtub. Grabbing it, I ran back upstairs and back into the bedroom, to see Mrs. Lodram going at Jack manically with scissors. I felt the blood leave my face, and I covered my mouth so not to heave. The matronly expert knew what she was doing, and she purposefully grabbed the brandy from my hands and poured it over Jack. He gasped in agony, and she patted on a puree of medicinal herbs before taking a needle and stitching his flesh back together.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she whispered to me, "He's lucky, that man. Three inches higher, we wouldn't now be having the pleasure of seeing that pretty face. Any longer, and it would've been gangrene. He's lucky, he is. Lucky you came along when you did."

I nodded, grateful for everything she had done. I then promptly collapsed into her arms.

--

Over the course of the next few weeks, Jack regained his health rapidly, thanks to Mrs. Lodram's brandy, herbs, and healing skills. I, too, stayed in Mrs. Lodram's home, avoiding the thought of returning to my father.

I did, however, make myself useful. I shopped for food, I tended the garden, and I looked after the two stray alley cats that came by every other afternoon. I was haunted, though. I walked in a constant state of fear. Anticipating an unexpected, and unpleasant, visitor, all the time. It was no way to live.

Finally, Mrs. Lodram dubbed Jack ready to depart, and the moment he heard the words, he hopped out of the bed, and vowed never to get back into it again.

"Bloody bed," he murmured remorsefully.

That afternoon, we were walking through Mrs. Lodram's back garden, which was a beautiful sight to behold. It was enormous, and had so many species of plants you couldn't even begin to name them all. The sunlight was warm, caressing my shoulders, and I took Jack's hand and gave it a friendly squeeze.

"Show me," I whispered, pointing to his side where he had been wounded, on that horrible night, so long ago now. He sighed and began to argue, but I shook my head. He sighed, eventually, and removed his shirt. I inhaled slightly when I saw it. It was dark and purple, a curving swell on his otherwise perfect skin. I mean, if you liked that sort of thing. **_I _**most obviously didn't care for it. Certainly he was tanned, but he was a **_sailor_**, shouldn't it be expected? And his muscles rippled in the midday sun, but, again, that came from working away on ships all day.

Jack seemed confused. He furrowed his brow. "What?" He asked indignantly.

"Oh- nothing," I quickly replied. There was no reason to dwell on it any longer.

--

He left the next night. I still can't understand why.

The rain came back again. Only, this time it was worse than before. It was a deluge! We were outside, by the harbor, when it started, and Jack kept exhaling loudly.

"What's wrong?" I wondered, taking his hand with concern, and giving it a supportive squeeze. He cleared his throat.

"I'm... leaving," he said at long last.

"You are?" I wobbled, my vision spinning. "When?"

"Tonight."

I grabbed onto a barrel for support. Jack started to walk away, and after I stood blankly for a moment, I regained my composure and ran after him.

"You can't just leave me here, Jack," I said anxiously, "Not after all I've been through with you."

"Catriona," Jack said, turning around. The rain crashed around us. "You're too, ah, delicate. It's not worth you getting hurt again."

"I am not delicate!" I yelled, over the sound of thunder. Jack's face reflected strong feelings of frustration, hurt, fury and sadness.

"Should I be feeling guilty?" He asked coldly.

"Don't you understand a thing that's going on!" I shouted, stomping my foot.

He took a step towards me, eyes wide with concern. I looked at him, standing not six feet away. I looked straight into those deep brown eyes, I looked at his strong, able body, and I looked at his soul, laid bare, there in the middle of the street. And it was at that moment that I realized I had fallen in love with him.

I couldn't make eye contact with him. Not now. "You're the only person who's ever made me feel alive!" I cried, throwing my arms up in exasperation. Thunder again rumbled, and the rain grew stronger.

Slowly, but purposefully, Jack walked over to me. He put one hand behind my head and one around my waist. I was trembling in his arms as he leaned in and kissed me tenderly. He started out softly, but gradually he deepened it, and it became more passionate, more intense, more... Jack. The rain was sweet on my lips, but Jack's lips on my own created a utopia that I didn't know existed. After an eternity of perfect happiness, Jack pulled away and stroked my cheek, my hair.

"I can't live without you, Jack," I whispered, my voice strained, "I love you."

Jack smiled a bittersweet smile, showing his gold-capped teeth. "I know, love." He squeezed my hand and turned away.

"No, Jack," I sobbed, "Please, Jack!"

He took a step.

"Jack! Jack, Jack," I wailed.

And he was gone, enveloped in the mist of that miserable, rainy night.

"**Jack!**" I cried, one last time, with an excruciating pain searing through my heart, before falling to my knees on the the rigid, clammy ground. With my face in my hands, I weeped my heart out, and not even the rain could wash away my wounded tears.

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	11. Changing Gears

Thank you to all who reviewed. Here's Chapter 11, I hope you all enjoy it!

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Chapter 11. Changing Gears  
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I stared ahead of myself. My eyes were blind, my ears were deaf, my mouth had nothing more to say. I had nothing- nothing but the crushing cloak of the night.

He was gone. Perhaps forever. What, now, did I have to live for? Nothing. Nothing at all.

I lied down in the mud, closing my eyes with a plea on my lips. No, Jack was gone, and I had nothing. But wait- and if he came back? Where, then, would I be? Would I be here, lying in the sludge as he walked up to me said, "You're a pitiful slime, go home and live forever by yourself, I won't waste my time with such a hopeless girl who doesn't even bother to clean her skin,"?

I sat up a little and hiccuped. _No_, I thought. He won't come back at all, not ever, so what should I care of my personal hygiene? Or, I continued, what if, off on his gallant adventures, he met another girl? A prettier, smarter, kinder, more adventurous girl? I straightened- and then slumped again.

"It wouldn't take much," I said, to no one in particular.

I was dying. I needed to think of something else, anything else. But I couldn't. I no longer wanted to. And then- where would I go? My eyes widened at the thought. Going home was completely out of the question; my father (if you'd even continue to call him that), would have me hanged! I had no one. I had nothing, and I had no one. I was an empty shell, crushed into a million pieces by a man who I would have sworn to hate.

An idea popped into my head. I could stay with Mrs. Lodram. Of course! I'd lived with her before, of course in different circumstances, but she was hospitable none the less. It was perfect.

Using what little strength I had left, I pushed myself away from the ground, letting the dirty water stream from my sodden body. It seemed like forever until I was actually standing, balanced, and I attempted my first step.

"Yes," I encouraged myself, "That's it. One, little, baby step at a time."

I caught the rhythm, and soon I was flying in the direction of the kindly woman's home. Past the alleys and boulevards that I'd grown to recognize and know, past the Griffin Tavern, where I could barely make out the sound of laughter over the rush of my pulse, and past the banquet hall, where, so very long ago, my fate had been sealed.

Knocking madly on the door, my chest heaved and I tried to catch my breath. Minutes passed like years before Mrs. Lodram's door creaked open. I could feel the warmth from inside, soft on my skin, and the air smelled like fresh bread. She stood there, mousy brown wisps framing her round, rosy cheeks and looked me up and down with her sheltering brown eyes.

"Good heavens, child!" She exclaimed, "You'll catch your death of cold!"

I tumbled into her arms and sobbed. I know she didn't understand my senseless blather, but that didn't stop her from stroking my hair and consoling me, regardless of my filthy, drenched appearance. I told her everything, starting with the ball and closing the pained speech with the description of Jack's kiss, and my fit after being abandoned. I was being consumed by a mad welter of feelings.

"I have nowhere to go!" I cried, hoping Mrs. Lodram would catch my hint and allow me to stay with her.

"Now, now, my dear, all that's happening is you're suffering the same thing we all suffer at one point or another," Mrs. Lodram soothed. I hiccuped again, and sniffled.

"And what might that be?" I sighed. "Emotional murder?" The kindly woman laughed and pulled my inside and out of the pouring rain.

"No," she said, smoothing back my hair and taking a washcloth to my face, "puppy love."

--

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. It was to be expected. Even in the homey, welcoming bedroom I had been staying in, my mind refused to slow down. It was off on a tangent, a thousand miles a second, creating havoc wherever it went. Jack was gone. How many times had that thought crossed my mind? I couldn't even begin to guess. Here I was, wallowing in selfish misery. _No_, I thought. He won't ever come back, so what's the point. Then and there, sitting propped against a pillow which made my back itch, I swore to myself that I would no longer, never again, care.

I even almost believed myself. For you see, I'm good at telling myself lies.

--

I left here a note. I didn't want her to worry about me, after all she had done for me. Mrs. Lodram was the epitome of sweetness and innocence, and her naiveté could take a hold of her sometimes. But I wouldn't just sit there and watch my life go by without me. I wouldn't.

The **_El Sauros _**was a pretty little ship, not very big, not very powerful, but it would get you where you needed to go, provided you took care of her. I had made all the arrangements the previous night. After I realized there would be no sleeping for me that night, I heaved myself out of bed and, as stealthily as I could, I made my way down to the harbor. It was blacker than death itself, but the rain had let up, so I had at least that to be thankful for. I was surprised to see a man sitting crossed legged in the middle of the dock, seemingly waiting for something. I couldn't make out his face, just the silhouette of his body and large feathered hat.

"Hello?" I asked cautiously. "Who's there?"

The face looked up in surprise, and I heard the shadowy figure shuffle over to the side of the dock where he suddenly produced light. Eventually I realized that it was coming from a lantern. With the newfound light, it finally registered.

"Barbossa," I whispered, insouciant. "What are you doing here?"

"Well I told you I'd be back, but apparently my word wasn't good enough for you!" He snapped back. "I went to find us a ship."

"But we had a ship!" I said, half a question, half a statement. "Why would we need another one?"

Barbossa smirked. "Because I knew what was to come."

So now we made way across the invincible waters of the ocean, always waiting, always watching for those infamous black sails. **_El Sauros_** made good time. It was almost as if she could sense our distress. Barbossa made himself quite busy, running from one end of the little ship to tie a loose knot, then back to he other end to resume course, so on and so forth. I did my best to keep up.

Days passed, weeks even, and no sign of any intelligent life anywhere. For the umpteenth time in my life, I was going mad. I was a mess- sudden fits of tears, singing myself to sleep, wishing that I'd never been born. Finally, I decided that there was no use. I would turn back in the morning.

And then I saw it. It was barely a speck on the outskirts of the horizon, but it was there. It was a ship.

It was a ship with black sails.

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Hey guys! I'm very sorry that took so long. I've been sick lately. I hope you liked the chapter. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Cheers,

jdeppsgirl


	12. Decisions, Decisions

**Author's Note:** _Thank you to Everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your reviews motivate me to write more! Here's chapter 12, it's a bit short, but I hope you like it anyways._

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Chapter 12. Decisions, Decisions  
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"Look! Look!" I shrieked, causing Barbossa to jump and cover his ears with his massive hands. "It's there! I see it!" I was ebullient, full of hope. I could see it now- I could see the Pearl, and I felt that sudden sensation that everything was going to be alright.

Just as suddenly as that thought appeared, it vanished. I had no right to be here. Jack had asked me to stay, and I had followed him. He would be furious, and even worse, disappointed with me. He would ask me to leave again, and I wasn't going to go through that rejection once more. I couldn't. I'd die. Barbossa seemed to sense my sudden distress.

"What be troublin' ye, Missy?" He asked me, sounding sincerely concerned. "Not a moment ago, you were bursting my eardrums with your ecstatic shouting."

I sighed, my chest slouching. "It's just... I don't think... I mean... Jack..." I couldn't get the words out.

"Do you love him?" Barbossa demanded. I was shocked, I'd hardly heard the man utter an unkind word in the entire few weeks I'd known him. It was out of character. And more than that, I wanted to know how he could tell.

"Of course not! What a ridiculous thing to say!" I retorted a bit too forcefully. Barbossa smirked, unconvinced. I'm certain I blushed furiously, but I wasn't willing to admit to this scoundrel that I was in love with a pirate. Anyways, I was still trying to tell myself that I wasn't. "Of course not." I repeated, a bit quieter, a bit more thoughtfully.

"Don't turn your back on your heart," Barbossa cautioned. He then agilely made his way back over to the wheel and got back on course. I exhaled loudly and crossed my arms. Glanced at Barbossa, I pouted, and then caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. I turned quickly and was relieved to still see the Pearl, intrepid and overpowering. But then- what was it? I recognized it, as one recognizes a dream. Or a dream of a dream.

As we drew closer to the Pearl, I could make out the outline of another weather-beaten ship, also making its way towards the Pearl. It was older than its time, with chipped wood and a broken bow.

I gasped.

The Qakqar.

My heart was now riddled with anxiety. I couldn't leave now, no matter how much I wanted to. And oh! How I wanted to! I was being torn in half. I desperately longed for Jack, but I also dreaded showing my face in his presence. And now I had the ever evil Tyuktuc and his ship to fear as well.

_Don't turn your back on your heart._

I breathed a quick prayer for strength, and ran up to the helm, pushing Barbossa out of the way. "Please, move!" I gasped.

"No need to get violent, Missy," Barbossa put up his hands in defense. I glared and clenched my jaw as I took control of the wheel. My mind was in a rush- it seemed like forever and a day until I managed to pull alongside the Pearl.

But now, how to board? All three ships were moving, and there would be no luck in dropping anchor. The water was far too deep.**_ El Sauros_** was reliable, but she was diminutive compared to the two majestic vessels beside her. I was fast becoming dissatisfied, and my heart was taking over my mind. It was screaming in my ears- Jack! Jack! That's all that mattered. Jack.

Without sparing another moment, I leaped up onto the rigging and climbed into the crow's nest, motioning for Barbossa to continue at the helm. Standing at the highest point on the little ship, I took my excessively long hair and tied it in a knot. The sun was setting, casting a golden explosion over the shimmering waves. This was it. It was now, or it was never. I looked down at Barbossa, standing, grumbling at the wheel, and I whistled for his attention.

"Barbossa! A quarter league starboard, man," I shouted. We were almost neck and neck with the Pearl, and I could see the Qakqar on the opposite side. Just a little further up, just a little closer in. Barbossa set his stance and spun the wheel with determination.

Now, we were adjacent to the Pearl. I could see the crew, bustling about, doing their duties wherever they were needed. My gaze drifted over the helm of the beautiful black craft, and my throat constricted when I recognized those all-too-familiar black locks. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Summoning up all my courage, I did it.

I jumped.

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_There you have it. Feedback is greatly appreciated._

_Cheers,_

_Chaela_


	13. A Shock, A Slash and A Spark

Hmmm I find it strange that 77 people have read my entire story, yet I only have 22 reviews! What's with that? Ok, ok, I digress. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and for those of you who didn't, please review this time, it means the world to me. Enjoy the chapter!

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Chapter 13. A Shock, a Slash and a Spark  
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If you've ever experienced your life passing before your eyes, it isn't the most pleasant thing around. There's just something so _final_ about it.

There was two feet between me and the Pearl. I was at my wit's end. If I made it, I would crash though the deck of the ship, and if I missed, I would plunge into the briny deep. It was a lose-lose situation.

In an instant, the wind was knocked out of me as I felt a crushing blow to my ribs. My hands automatically grasped for the first thing they felt, which just so happened to be the railing of the deck. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe, my eyesight was fuzzy and decorated with millions of tiny black dots. I could make out the shadowy figure of a person approaching me, but who? I recognized the slender build, those fine leather boots, and the sword slung carelessly around the waist; hands daintily placed upon the hips. I looked up expectantly, and-

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

I shook my head and opened my eyes wider to try and decipher this mystery. Eventually the little black dots wore off, and I was hit with a deep clenching disappointment in the pit of my stomach.

Ragetti.

"Well..." I began, but I hadn't finished my sentence before he came and helped to pull me up onto the deck. Apparently, though, my painful landing hadn't made much noise, because Ragetti was only one who seemed to notice my existence. Him, and Mr. Gibbs. The skinny little pirate shrunk back as Gibbs came into view.

"Hello there, Missy," Gibbs said, amused, "And may I inquire as to what brings you here?" The heat rushed to my face as I tried to think up an excuse. "The Qakqar- Tyuktuc- It was-" I fumbled, trying to figure my words. Gibbs chortled and patted me on the back. "And how did it come to pass that you'd have such prescient powers?" He raised his eyebrows and then squinted at me.

I cleared my throat, lowering my voice. "Jack," I finally said, as I exhaled.

Mr. Gibbs suddenly become very stoic and serious, and he brought his hand to the side of his mouth as if telling me a secret. "I do believe I forgot to mention, we've acquired a new crew member."

I was puzzled, wondering why that would be such a big deal. Why would I care if there was a new crew member aboard? Gibbs lowered his eyes for a moment, suppressing a sigh. My eyes darted up to the helm, to the exact spot where I'd expect to see Jack- my Jack- standing, caressing the wheel as if it was his lover. And see him I did- not without the new hand hanging off his shoulder.

Jack wasn't his usual self, though. He stood stick-straight and didn't stray from his stance at all. He seemed very solemn. But then, his shoulders unexpectedly slumped and he brought a hand to his face. The new crew member lifted their hand to Jack's chin and turned him in their direction.

In **_her_** direction.

Her? I shook my head in disbelief as I watched Jack being handled by... who? Who, this woman, this- this tramp! I was relieved of my misery, however momentarily, as my vision blurred, full of unshed tears. I slid to the ground and covered my face in my hands. Of course. Who had I been kidding, anyways? Jack had left, and found another girl. That was that. So what was I doing here, besides humiliating myself? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Gibbs placed his arm around me as a comfort; it didn't do much good. I sighed heavily and sniffled.

"There, there, Missy," Gibbs awkwardly consoled, "No need to get teary, now." I nodded and wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands as I stood up to face my own little ship: _El Sauros_. Barbossa stood, arms crossed, waiting for me at the rail. I couldn't make eye contact with him though; I couldn't believe I'd made him come all this way with me. And for nothing.

"Mr. Gibbs," I began, "I'm sorry to have-" I was cut of by a loud CRACK! I whirled around and caught sight of a nightmare- Tyuktuc had once again boarded the Black Pearl, along with his band of ever-so-merry men. Fear overwhelmed me and I forgot my sorrow, and as the inevitable confrontation between Jack and Tyuktuc begun, I was searching frantically for some form of support.

"I gave you a warning, Jack, and I still have every intention of getting it back," Tyuktuc hissed.

"Fortunately, mate, I find that you and I now have something in common," Jack quickly stated, "We've both lost something dear to our hearts."

Tyuktuc stumbled a bit at this, but who was to blame him? Every living creature on the ship stumbled at that statement. What was dear to Jack's heart, but the sea itself? And the sea was there, still, underneath us. Unless- wait? Could Jack be speaking of me? No, impossible. I had obviously meant nothing to him, or he would have stayed with me. But then again, what reason would he have to stay with me, if his only love was the sea?

Tyuktuc smoldered angrily. "You try my patience! Give me what is mine, or let it be death." Jack shrugged, turning back to the wheel. I noticed now that his 'new crew member' had escaped my view, so I took the liberty of feeling somewhat elated. Until I remembered- Barbossa. He was probably still waiting for me at the rail of _El Sauros_. I spun again and saw him staring wide-eyed at the situation. Suddenly feeling a significant amount of strength, I discovered a somewhat loose piece of lumber, and with all the force I had in my body, I shifted it so that it grazed the deck of El Sauros. Barbossa gave me a gratuitous smile and followed the plank onto the Pearl.

A shriek let out, and it began. Barbossa flew into the chaos the moment he stepped foot onto the ship, and all hell broke loose. There would be bloodshed tonight.

The second Tyuktuc's mouth opened to form a scream, Jack spun and viciously drew his sword from its sheath, its deadly glow reflecting in the spectrum of the sun's light. Tyuktuc took this as an invitation, and he flew forward in rage.

And then, I shook. Not with sadness, not with fear, but with anger. With the adrenaline that was shooting, coursing through my veins. With strength. With courage. I stepped up to the man nearest to me, and felt my fist pummel his face. He fell over, stunned, with bones newly crushed.

I looked up at Jack, grimly battling this enemy that had been stalking him for years. I watched him, watched his muscles ripple, I watched his eyes, intent in their gaze towards Tyuktuc. Tyuktuc, with his flashing sword, his hateful heart, his passionately dark fate coming nearer and nearer. He was going. He was going now.

I bent down to the man I had just immobilized, and I picked up his sword.

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Thanks for reading! Please review, it doesn't take long. Hope you enjoyed.

Cheers,

Chaela


	14. I Am

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Chapter 14. I Am  
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Feeling the heavy grip of the weapon in my hand, I moved forward. Slowly. Surely. The life around me was a blur, fading into the back of my mind. I had but one scene, stuck in my head. Jack and Tyuktuc fought wildly, only several feet away from me. I steadily continued to move forward, throngs of people surrounding me. My eyes were glued in place.

Jack took a wild swing at Tyuktuc, narrowly missing his shoulder. Tyuktuc grinned evilly and continued to parry Jack's attacks. Jack was advancing, causing Tyuktuc to retreat to the starboard side of the ship. And oh, how the Pearl trembled, and how the skies shook as their battle reigned on. Tyuktuc countered and took the attack himself, and now Jack was the one retreating, back, back against the wall of the cabin. Tyuktuc slashed and grazed Jack's left forearm. Jack winced from the pain, and as he propped himself against the wall, I stopped my proccession, directly beside him. Before he had a chance to turn and see me, Tyuktuc raised his arms for one final blow, and-

"That isn't very wise, matey," Barbossa hissed as he knocked Tyuktuc's sword to the side. Miraculously, Tyuktuc recovered quickly and managed to retrieve his sword before Barbossa struck him down. At that precise moment, Jack turned his head to the right and saw me. I locked eyes with him, and I tried to smile sweetly. Jack paled, his eyes wide with... what? Concern? Surprise? Gladness? I couldn't tell. Just as I was about to open my mouth to speak, I simultaneously felt a jerk as a hand circled around my neck and a twinge of fear as Jack's sword fiercely flew towards me.

"AGHHH!"

Someone shrieked in pain as my neck was released. Jack pulled his sword out of the man's bloody flesh as I stood there, unable to move. I was afraid, once again. What would Jack do? Was he angry? Was he disappointed? Either way, it was negative for me. I closed my eyes, and all of a sudden I had a deliciously soft mouth carressing my eyes, my hair, my lips, my cheeks. I was astounded, but my heart took a leap of faith and I opened my eyes and brought my hand to Jack's hair.

"Oh, Jack," I whispered, tearfully. He had a gash in his cheek and a wound on his shoulder, and blood was steadily dripping from both. Jack didn't seem to feel the pain though, as he continued to kiss me, and kiss me, and kiss me.

"What are you-" he started to wonder in between embraces, "doing here?" Kiss. "You're so-" Kiss. "Stupid!" Kiss, kiss. "You stupid-," Kiss. "Stupid girl!" Kiss, kiss, kiss.

"Jack, I couldn't-" He continued to shower me with kisses, making it difficult for me to talk, being that I was already in a euphoric daze. "I couldn't bear it. I was dying, Jack." He drew away from my face and sighed. I looked into his eyes, as deeply as I thought possible. "I **_love_** you."

Jack closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "I know, love. I know." He knew. But did he return my love? It was always impossible to tell, with Jack. I was aching for him to say he loved me back.

Just then, the 'new crew member' let out a cry and Jack spun to see her in the clutches of one of Tyuktuc's men. I remembered that I still held a sword in my hand, and with another course of sudden strength, I leapt forward and ran up to where the woman was being victimized. The aggressor had his back to me, so he didn't see me coming.

"Excuse me, sir," I tapped the man on the shoulder, causing him to turn and face me with his teeth barren. "Have you ever had your heart broken?" A confused look crossed the man's face, followed by a violent negatory shake of the head. With that, I stabbed in the heart. "There," I said, after he had fallen. "Now you know what it feels like."

"Who are you?" I demanded the girl, who looked up at me painfully with awe. Jack came up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. He then strode on and crouched down beside the woman who had driven me to fight for what I felt was rightfully mine.

"Valora, don't be afraid," Jack soothed. "Catriona means you no harm." Valora? My jaw dropped and I immediately throbbed with guilt. I joined Jack on the floor of the ship and shook my head.

"I'm so sorry, I really am. I didn't mean- I thought- I mean, you were- you're-" Jack stopped me, bringing a finger to my lips. "Valora knows all about you, Catriona. She knows who you are. The only reason she's here, besides hiding from her python of a father, is to help me." I started to ask Jack why he needed help, only to be interrupted by the clashing of swords directly beside us. Barbossa and Tyuktuc came into view, and Barbossa was breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Barbossa said through short breaths, throwing down his sword, "I've done all I can."

Tyuktuc knocked Barbossa unconscious with the butt of his sword and spat at Jack, who was presently rising off the ground."You filthy slime! Give me my daughter! Give me my life back!"

Jack's eyes hardened as he stepped forward. Everything was coming in and out of reality. Time passed in slow motion as I watched the scene before me. Jack drew his sword and icily delivered the words: "You don't deserve a daughter. You don't deserve to live." With that, he rushed forward, taking his enemy by surprise, and without error, plunged his weapon into the stomach of Tyuktuc, sending him sprawling to the ground. All was still. I covered my eyes and slumped to the ground in relief. I finally took my hands off of my face and looked beside me. Valora wasn't there. My heart jumped in worry as I frantically searched around me for the Inuit Princess. _Where was she? _My search was stopped by an angry shout from Jack.

"Now, the rest of you, get the bloody hell off of my ship!"

Tyuktuc's crew looked awkwardly at one another, deciding what to do now that their captain and leader was dead. Finally, one of them sheathed his sword and made his way back to the Qakqar. The rest soon followed suit. As soon as the last embarrassed and angry member of Tyuktuc's crew had exited the Pearl, I breathed deeply for the first time in a long time.

I then promptly fainted.

When I came to, I was in the cargo hold, my head in Jack's arms. He was stroking my hair and whispering to someone else in the room. As I stirred, Jack propped me up and smoothed down a wrinkle in my skirt.

"You were out a bloody long time, love," Jack muttered playfully. I smiled.

"Did you miss me?" I teased back. I expected some sort of a response, but at those words, Jack became solemn. I knew there was someone else in the room, but I didn't know who. I sat upright and waited as my eyes became accustomed to the darkness. I could make out the shape of another female, and I knew that it was Valora. I could also see Barbossa, still passed out, and I found myself wondering if we would ever see him conscious again. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, I was distracted by a muffled sob. Jack shifted and reached for a lantern, and in moments the hold was illuminated. I gasped at what I saw. Valora was huddled over in a corner of the hold, with shimmering purple stone, crushed in a million pieces, shattered about her. The amythest eagle.

"It wasn't you, Jack," Valora sobbed. "The sword didn't kill him." She gazed up at us with tear-stained eyes. "I did."

Standing at the rail of the ship, my mind was wandering. What would happen? Where would I go from here? My head was spinning.

We had been sailing for days now. The final battle with Tyuktuc seemed to have happened a lifetime ago. We had all moved on from it- including Valora. She had hardened, in my opinion. The loss of her father, no matter how evil he was, had shaken her. I just hoped that she would not follow his path out of bitterness.

"What's eating you, love?" Jack asked as he took his place beside me against the rail.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about Valora," I answered, and then I looked Jack straight in the eye, "And about what to do now."

"Well, love, it seems to me that you've already decided that."

"What do you mean?" I asked, slightly confused.

"You're looking out to sea, every day now, like you're looking for something. Land. You want to go home."

My stomach sank as Jack uttered these words. He wanted me to leave. He didn't care about me, he just wanted me to leave. "Oh, no, Jack," I corrected him, hastily. "I don't ever want to go home." I struggled to keep frustrated tears out of my eyes. Jack looked sad, but amused. He took me by the shoulders and turned me so that I was facing him, square on.

"And why is that, love?"

I thought a moment before answering his question. When I had chosen my words, I took Jack's rough hands in my own smaller ones. "Because without you, Jack," I whispered, stepping closer to him, "I'm dust."

He smirked at my words, and lowered his eyes.

"Jack, I'm so in love with you," I muttered. "I need to know. Do you... love me?"

Jack smiled without lifting his eyes, unable to respond. I lifted his chin and dared him to look me in the eye. "Jack," I started again.

"Yes."

I grinned and threw my arms around him, locking my lips to his. With that kiss, that one, simple kiss, I gave him everything. Not only my mouth, but my mind, my spirit, my whole being. It was perfectly pure, perfectly affectionate, perfectly intense and perfectly passionate. I was simply perfect.

At long last, we drew away from each other, and Jack stared at me. "Do you know what you are?" He asked, quietly.

"Yes, Jack, I know what I am," I responded confidently. Jack smiled, kissing my neck, my shoulder, my cheek.

"And what are you, love?"

"I am..." I began, as Jack leaned in for another long embrace.

"...a pirate."

THE END


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